


The Anonymous Client.

by BarPurple



Series: To Reclaim Our Past [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: AU, Case Fic, Conspiracy, Crossover, Gen, Kidnapping, Some talk of a sexual nature, Time Agents, Time Travel, UNIT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-20 04:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1496200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can Sherlock solve the mystery of the client who has no memory of herself? And just where does the dashing American captain fit into the puzzle?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Ring.

**Author's Note:**

> A Sherlock/Torchwood crossover. Additional tags will turn up as I finish more chapters. Possibly more fandoms as well.
> 
> Not betaed so please inform and forgive any mistakes.

“One ring.Client!”

Sherlock and John exclaimed together. Sherlock’s tone full of unadulterated excitement, while John’s voice contained more than a little relief, (there was excitement there as well of course, the blogger was always keen for the possibility of danger that a new case brought.) 

It had been five days since their last case and as John galloped down the stairs to answer the door he fancied he could hear a sigh of relief from the very walls of 221B. After four days containing a post-case, increasingly bored consulting detective the walls and their landlady would be worried about more bullet holes in the plaster work.

“Please be at least a six.” John muttered to himself as he opened the front door.

“Hello, I’m looking for Sherlock Holmes.”

The woman on the doorstep was dressed in denim, plaid and hiking boots with an army duffel bag slung over her shoulder. John gave her a subtle look over, he'd learnt more from Sherlock than he gave himself credit for. No signs of crying so probably not a cheating partner. Not looking overly stressed so not a family member in trouble. Rather pretty, (John didn't need any Holmes training for that one, that was pure Three Continents).

“You’re in the right place. I’m John Watson. Sherlock’s is inside, please come on in.”

John gave her a welcoming smile and ushered her inside. As their prospective client started up the stairs Mrs. Hudson popped out of her flat.

“Was that one ring on the doorbell?” She asked John hopefully. John nodded with a grin in reply.

“Thank heavens. I’ll leave you too it.” 

She crossed her fingers at him and headed back into her flat. As John hurried up the stairs he found himself mentally repeating the mantra of ‘Please be a six.’

 

John found their client taking in the unique decor of 221B's living room. He motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa. Sherlock had obviously decided to put some clothes on, or at least a pair of clean pyjamas. Before he could say anything John heard Sherlock’s door open and briefly thought ‘Clothes not a sheet, please’ as he settled himself in his chair and picked up his notebook and pen.

The consulting detective strode into the living room in sharp midnight blue suit and asked in an imperious tone;

“Who are you and what is your case, please be brief.” 

With that instruction he folded himself into his chair and fixed their client with a focused stare.

“Who I am is the case, Mr Holmes. I have no memory of my life before this morning. Can you help?”

Sherlock sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees his fingers tented. The look on his face was neutral, but John recognized the eagerness that suggested this client had caught his interest.

“What do you know about yourself?” the detective asked.

“I woke up in the Kings Cross Travel Lodge. The room was in the name of Daryl Dixon and I have a credit card in that name, but it does connect to me in my mind.” Was the reply from apparently Daryl. 

John chuckled a little; Sherlock to look at him curiously.

“That’s the name of a character in The Walking Dead.” The doctor explained. Daryl nodded and smiled as she said,

“You’re going to love my diary.” She handed a slim black book to Sherlock.

“This year’s, cheap mass produced, purchased from the Vauxhall Road, and this is humorous why John?” There was a note of annoyance in Sherlock’s voice.

“Tom Riddle’s diary came from a shop on the Vauxhall Road. It’s a Harry Potter reference Sherlock.”

“See I get those references. I know London, not well, but enough to feel comfortable. I know who the Prime Minister is and who’s on the throne. I’ve got books, films and music in my head. I know how to use a computer and that mobile. There’s all this information in my head, but I’m drawing a total blank on anything to do with myself. And that probably should be worrying, but I feel okay about it.”

John looked carefully at Daryl. She was not showing any signs of the stress or fear that he’d expect to see as a normal reaction to losing one’s memory. Maybe the fact that she knew where she was and had more general trivia than Sherlock possessed helped take the edge of the panic? The doctor in John stepped to the front and started drawing up a mental list of things that could cause memory loss. Sherlock noticed the subtle change in John and nodded at him to assess the health of their client.

"Would you mind if I checked your head for trauma? It's possible that you received a blow that caused a form of amnesia."

John's tone was gentle and calm and Daryl nodded her consent. With careful movements John examined her skull, but found no lumps or bumps. As he was checking her pupils Daryl asked;

"You were an army medic, Doctor Watson?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"There's an RAMC mug next to your chair."

The only sign that Sherlock was impressed with her observation skills was a minute raise of his eyebrow.

"Well, no sign of head injury and you don't appear to be under the influence of drugs at the moment as far as I can tell."

John smiled and settled himself back in his chair with a look at silent consulting detective. Sherlock was flicking through the small black diary in an apparently aimless way.

"What made you come to us?" questioned John. 

In reply Sherlock opened the diary and showed his blogger the page for today's date. Written in block capitals was the name and address of the consulting detective.

"Is this your hand writing?" John asked.

"I don't know. I wrote it out a few times at the hotel. The results were similar, but I don't know if that was because I copied what I saw, or if it is my writing." 

Sherlock huffed a deep sigh.

"This is intriguing. I can deduce things about you, but there is no way to confirm them."

"Tell me what you can deduce Mr Holmes." requested Daryl.

"It's unverifiable data. It's meaningless." Sherlock's voice was rising in frustration.

"I'll take an unconfirmed identity over no identity at all right now."

Sherlock took a deep breath and let his sharp eyes roam over the mystery before him. John watch quietly as the brilliant mind behind those eyes analysed and deduced. 

"British born; mid to late thirties; lived in various part of the country, but a large part of your childhood was spent in the North, hum, East I'd say judging by your accent. As aware of pop culture as John here, obviously. Well educated; work with a computer on a daily basis; adaptable to unusual situations; high stress tolerance and observant. Aha. John put the kettle on. We're soon to have a visit from the British Government."

John had been watching for any reactions from Daryl, but now turned to Sherlock with curiosity on his open face. Their client looked with polite confusion between the two men. The consulting detective gave his blogger a small nod in the direction of the kitchen, which John understood as 'Give me a minute alone with her.' John pushed himself out of his chair and asked Daryl;

"Would you like a cup of tea?"

Daryl pursed her lips and answered with a slight smile;

"Well Mr Holmes says I'm British and tea is what Brits turn to in times of uncertainty, so yes please. I'm afraid I don't know how I take it."

John picked up his mug and headed into the kitchen. With an impending visit from Mycroft and the fact that Sherlock wanted to question their client one on one John decided that he would take the time to brew up a pot of the really good tea. 

 

Daryl sat patiently with her head tilted slightly to one side waiting for Sherlock to explain himself.

"It came to my attention that one of the more clandestine arms of the government had recently misplaced an operative. I believe you are that missing person."

"Oh. Okay and when you say you're expecting the British Government to arrive shortly?"

It didn't escape the detective's notice that she didn't ask for the name of the missing person. Interesting. With a sneer in his voice he answered the question she did ask.

"My brother likes to think of himself as the power behind the palace of Westminster."

"I notice there was one deduction you didn't share with Doctor Watson. How long have you been trying to quit smoking Mr Holmes."

"You caught me glancing at you top pocket, where you obviously have a pack of cigarettes."

Daryl nodded and removed a slightly battered pack of twenty high tar smokes from her top pocket. With one hand she flipped open the packet and peered inside.

"Only two left. I won't tell if you don't Mr Holmes."

She handed Sherlock the packet with a small wink. As he took the packet his clever fingers registered the fact that it was a little too heavy to only contain two cigarettes. In one smooth motion he slid the forbidden item into the pocket of his suit coat.

 

In the very next moment John returned from the kitchen with a tray of tea and the door of the flat opened to reveal a slightly harassed looking British Government. Sherlock found a small amount of glee in his older brother's discomfort.

"Good morning, brother mine. I believe I have found something you misplaced."

"I did not misplace anything, or anyone Sherlock. That responsibility lies with my colleague here."

Mycroft stepped to one side and waved his colleague into the flat. John always felt that the Holmes brothers radiated an air of confident arrogance, but even they were cast into the shade by the tall man in the classic RAF coat. With his effortless grace and classic square jaw he wouldn't be out of place in a superhero movie. There was a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye that John recognised. In John's mind Three Continents Watson acknowledge that he was in the presence of a true master of flirtation and seduction. 

Since the elder Holmes did not move to make an introduction John stood up and extended his hand to the stranger.

"Doctor John Watson."

The stranger smiled and shook John's hand firmly.

"Hi, Captain Jack Harkness." The lilt of his accent revealed him as an American.

"Behave yourself Jack."

Everyone turned in surprise towards Daryl. She looked rather taken aback herself.

"Oh, I've said that before. Lots of times. I know you don't I, Jack?"

The American chuckled gently and sat down next to Daryl.

"Yes, you know me. We've worked together for quite a long time. You're Ellen Abbot. You're a special researcher for UNIT."

Daryl, or rather Ellen closed her eyes and frowned in concentration. The tension in the room slowly climbed as she took the time to process what the American Captain had told her. Her hands twitched slightly in a manner that looked familiar to John, but he couldn't place the motions right now. 

The brothers Holmes and him were almost holding their breath waiting for Ellen to respond. Only Captain Harkness appeared unfazed. Finally Ellen opened her eyes with a sigh.

"It's familiar. My head still feels clouded, but things are starting to come into focus."

John's honest face broke into a smile. He was always happy to see a patient begin to recover. His expression was mirrored by the American. It was Mycroft who spoke first;

"Wonderful. Well now, I don't supposed you'd like to explain just how UNIT came to misplace Miss Abbot?"

Captain Harkness turned to face the minor government official and John saw a flash of some stony emotion appear in his eyes. It was gone before John could identify it and there was only easy going politeness in the man's tone when he spoke.

"Mycroft, you know as well as I do this is UNIT business. I can't tell you anything."

The elder Holmes looked incredibly put out to be stone walled in this way. There was a slight twitch in the hand gripping his ever present umbrella. 

"At the very least you can tell me where you are planning on taking Miss Abbot. I can offer the services of an excellent medical facility."

"No. UNIT can take care of its own perfectly well."

"Captain Harkness, I assure you I have the highest authority in matters such as these . . ."

"No you don't. Not in this case."

The two men stared at each other, waiting for the other to blink first. John shook his head and decided to put a stop to this display.

"Okay gents. You're both big, powerful men. No need to get them out and wave them around."

John and Ellen both raised a finger in a hushing motion to Captain Harkness, who was clearly about to make some ribald comment. You couldn't help but like this guy.

"The only person who is going to have a say as to what happens now is Daryl, sorry Ellen. Don't you think Sherlock?"

The consulting detective had been unusually silent since his brother's arrival and for a moment John wondered if the young man had retreated into his Mind Palace. Thankfully Sherlock was paying intense attention to the proceedings and twitched his lips in a way that John recognized as 'Let's upset Mycroft'. John braced himself ready for the slaughter that was a Holmes sniping match.

"John as ever has the well being of the damsel in distress at heart. I think his idea is excellent. Miss Abbot's memories are more likely to return if she is in an environment she feels comfortable in. So, Miss Abbot, you have a choice between the British Government or our American friend?"

Ellen gave Sherlock a small smile before she turned to Mycroft. For a second the British Government scented victory, but the smug sneer was wiped from his lips at Ellen's words.

"Thank you for the offer Mr Holmes, but I don't know you from Adam. At the very least Jack has triggered some recollections for me, so he's my partner for this dance."

Sherlock snorted at his brother as Mycroft's face shifted gears from astonishment back to his passive political mask. John found himself needing to take a sip of the all but forgotten tea in order to hide his own grin. The UNIT Captain and researcher rose from the sofa.

"Mr Holmes, the younger. Doctor Watson. Thank you for your help. Once I get my memories back would you like to know if what you deduced about me was correct?"

Sherlock gave a dismissive twirl of his hand.

"Of course I'm correct." John gave him one of those 'little bit no good' looks so he added, "but the confirmation would be welcome."

With that Ellen Abbot was ushered out of the flat by Captain Harkness. The latter gave Mycroft a blinding smile as he went by, which only added to Mycroft's annoyance. For a moment the elder Holmes looked unsure as what to do, then John realised he was counting under his breath. He was either attempting to control his temper, or counting down until his younger sibling made a snarky comment. After a moment or two of total, and in Sherlock's case surprising, silence in the flat. Mycroft inhaled deeply and turned on his heel.

"Tread softly, brother mine."

The comment was thrown over his shoulder as he left the flat. It was an unusual exit, but far from strange on the Holmes scale of brotherly interaction. At least it was peaceful. John turned to his flatmate as the lanky man withdrew a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. There was a enthusiastic gleam in his ever changing eyes and he flashed John a wicked grin.

"Oh John. The game is on."


	2. It's all about who you know.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When is a packet of cigarettes not as simple as it appears?

"Do you think we've chosen the right side?"

Ellen sounded cautious and unsure of herself. Jack knew from long experience that this was never a good sign. He braced himself for anything from an impassioned discussion to a flat out shouting match.

"You're still having doubts?"

"No. Yes. Probably."

Jack couldn’t help but snort a little.

"Well at least you're decided about it!"

Ellen nudged him with her shoulder as they walked. They’d been walking for a good ten minutes, but hadn’t got that far from the Baker Street flat. They’d taken a meandering route through back alleys and side streets. It was a deeply ingrained habit for both of them.

"Shut up. I know you’re set on the Holmes side, but I can’t help thinking going with Moriarty would have been the safer choice.”

At this Jack actually stopped and stared at her. Pulling her in close he said softly;

"You think a criminal mastermind getting hold of the Key would be a safer choice? That kind of power would let Moriarty unleash murder, destruction and chaos."

“Exactly! All of those I know how to deal with. Evil is reliably predictable when offered powerful toys. Sherlock Holmes is a bloody wildcard.”

"He'll turn out for the best. He's found Watson and that will tip the balance."

"Ah the good Doctor. He is rather sweet, but I think you have a bit of a blind spot for doctors."

"Only the really great ones. All we do now is wait for Holmes to take the puzzle.”

 

\-----

 

"So what did she give you?"

"A pack of cigarettes."

"Sherlock. I'm not that dumb. I know your 'Yay nicotine' look and that is not what your face is wearing."

"What look is my face wearing?"

"This is your 'Locked room, triple suicide/murder' look. So what's the case?"

“What did you think of our client, John?”

John was used to Sherlock taking conversation through sudden handbrake turns. He’d discovered early on it was easier to hang on tight and ride it out until his barmy flatmate swung the discourse back on track and across the finish line. He ran the events of the morning through his head again before answering.

“She was a little too composed. I’ve seen patients with memory loss before and there’s always more emotion. Confusion, fear, or even anger; though she did get tense when you tried to hold back on the deductions.”

Sherlock was grinning ear to ear. He bounced from his chair and started striding back and forth.

“You saw the important moment. You didn’t get why it was important, but you saw it.”

“That was almost a compliment. So, enlighten me. Why was that the important bit?”

“It was the only honest thing Ellen Abbot did or said today John. There was no memory loss; she came here today to deliver something. Something so important she was willing to go through that little masquerade and risk being in the same room as my brother.”

“That did strike me as odd, because Captain Square Jaw said they were UNIT and I would have bet next month’s rent that UNIT and Mycroft would be friendlier than that.”

Sherlock barked out a laugh;

“In Mycroft’s dreams! He maintains open channels of communication with the head of UNIT.”

“Aha, so they hate each other’s guts then?”

“Yup.” The extended pop Sherlock gave the final letter showed just how much this state of affairs delighted him.

“Okay, so mystery client and her American Captain not UNIT. What are they and why the song and dance to give you a packet of cigarettes?”

Sherlock was twirling the pack in the fingers of one hand. Suddenly he dropped into a crouch in front of John and flipped open the packet.

“The cigarettes were a smoke screen. The important bit is this.”

With that he twitched the packet causing a slim memory stick to jump into his waiting hand. He was looking at it like it was an all-expenses paid ticket to the World Cup Final. John waited a moment for him to explain before impatience got the better of him.

“And apart from being a memory stick that is . . .”

“I have no idea.” said Sherlock gleefully.

He shot to his feet and twirled around. His back was to John for barely a second, but as he turned back to face his blogger he’d managed to light one of the cigarettes. Dr Watson’s shoulders dropped in annoyance as he frowned at the burning ember between Sherlock’s lips. The detective ignored him and carried on.

“I do however know where we need to go to access it. Oh keep up John! We need to break into UNIT HQ!”

John opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again quickly. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath before rising from his chair and retrieving the forgotten tea tray from the table.

“That is not going to happen.” he said calmly as he walked into the kitchen. Sherlock’s petulant flounce put scores of teenagers to shame.

“Oh John! We need access to UNIT databases. Mycroft can’t help, so it’s just a little breaking and entering.”

John’s very unimpressed face appeared round the kitchen door. Sherlock took a deep drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out in a stray teacup. As he exhaled the smoke he pouted at his blogger.

“Breaking into the Tower of London is not a little breaking and entering, no it’s not Sherlock, and besides I have a better idea.”

“Really?”

John brought his hands together under his chin in a clear imitation of Sherlock’s thinking pose. He held his left hand out, palm upwards, at his flatmate and said, with obvious enjoyment;

“Pass me my phone will you Sherlock. I need to set up a date.”

“Is this really the time to be trying to get your leg over John?”

“Not what I’m trying to do. Now, do you want to keep making smartarse comments, or shall I get us into UNIT HQ? Without getting us arrested for treason.”

Sherlock handed over John’s phone with a disdainful sniff.

“For the record I’m still going to make smartarse comments.”

“Yes Sherlock. Shush now.”

John found the number he was looking for in his phone and hit the call icon. Sherlock hovered close trying not to look like his curiosity was killing him. After a moment John’s call was clearly answered.

“Hello Kate! How are you?”

John moved just far enough away from his flatmate that Sherlock couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation.

“Oh you know still rattling around London… I wish it was, but I need to call in a favour… Best if we meet up for this one, coffee?... I promise no knife wielding maniacs this time… Yeah, you will… Excellent, see you in an hour… I’ll try Kate, bye for now.”

John ended the call and turned to Sherlock with a huge grin on his face. The consulting detective was wearing a slight frown, before his eyes widen.

“Oho! Kate! Doctor Kate Stewart. You know the head of UNIT?”

“Yes and thankfully I’m on better terms with her than your brother. Come on, we’ve got a date to keep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got this far? Thank you :)  
> Spotted a mistake? Let me know and it will be fixed ;)  
> Liked it? Loathed it? You gotta tell me these things, sadly not a mind reader.


	3. Coffee and Contacts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress will be made if Sherlock can just be less, well, less Sherlocky.

Osgood cringed as she listened to her boss on the phone. She wasn’t eavesdropping; the volume Dr Stewart was employing meant she really didn’t need to use the phone to speak to the R&D department three floors down.

“I gave you a green light for the facial recognition software to be put in the ravens.

I DID NOT say you could include tranquiliser darts…

I am DAMN certain I didn’t Okay that and there is no way on God’s green Earth I would have said go ahead and link both systems into the Staff Database…

I have four very sleepy Beef Eaters upstairs and a whole heap of nosey tourists to deal with…..

NO! This does NOT count as a successful beta test…

Just put the ravens back to how they were….

THAT was not a request!”

It was a testament to Kate Lethbridge-Stewart’s emotional control that she did not slam the phone down. She did grip the handset so tightly it creaked as she placed it back in its cradle. She managed two deep breaths before her mobile started to ring.

“Osgood! Have you seen my mobile?”

Osgood hurried into her boss’s office and fished the mobile out from under a stack of reports before handing it over.

“Inhaler! Thank you.”

There was a click and whoosh as Osgood took her asthma medication. A smile crept across Kate’s face as she checked the caller ID before hitting answer.

“Captain Watson…”

_“Hello Kate. How are you?”_

“Surviving. You?”

_“Oh you know still rattling around London.”_

“Is this a social call then?”

_“I wish it was, but I need to call in a favour.”_

“Typical. What do you need John?”

_“Best if we meet up for this one, coffee?”_

“Will it be as exciting as last time?”

_“I promise no knife wielding maniacs this time.”_

“Okay, do I get to meet your flatmate?”

_“Yeah, you will.”_

“Can’t say no to that. The usual place in an hour good for you?”

_“Excellent, see you in an hour.”_

“Get there in one piece John.”

_“I’ll try Kate, bye for now.”_

“Bye Captain.”

Kate tapped her thumb against her teeth as she looked thoughtfully at her mobile. She’d known Captain John Watson MD for a good few years now and he didn’t call in favours lightly.

“Have there been any watch list pings today?”

Osgood flicked through the data on her PDA.

“Yes. One definite and one possible.”

“Let me guess, both sighted near Baker Street?”

Osgood nodded and with a little nervous gulp said,

“It looks like Jack Harkness and a friend.”

“Wonderful.”

Kate rested her elbows on her desk and scrubbed both hands through her hair. Holmes and Harkness turning up on the same day did not bode well. Idly she wondered what passing deity she’d offended to deserve this kind of stress in her life. If she ever found out she’d send them a gift basket; days like this were her favourite. She shook her head to dispel the passing fancy and refocused on the business at hand.

“What should the statement about R&D’s latest escapade say?”

“Ah, Sundance Film entry about a robotic invasion of London.”

“Possible, but there were no cameras set up.”

“That’s because the style is found footage so they were using mobiles and the CCTV feed. I’ve got fake consent forms ready for the witnesses to sign and our contact at Pinewood is throwing a short film together for us.”

“That is genius, Osgood. What would I do without you?”

“Probably put R&D in shock collars.”

“Don’t tempt me. Right, let’s fix this then I can go and meet John.”

 

\-----

 

Captain Jack Harkness and Ellen Abbot had lost themselves among London’s unseen homeless. They might have chosen a different hiding place had they know how carefully Sherlock cultivated the Homeless Network. A two hundred yard stroll had taken them past seven eyes, (yes three pairs and an odd one, Edgar would tell you the story for a couple of quid), that would report back to Sherlock later. Not that the consulting detective had asked anyone to be on the lookout for these two, but the Network were good at spotting things that Mr Holmes might well have an interest in. And to be fair these two stood out like sore thumbs.

“It’s safe to say we’re being watched Jack.”

“I’d be surprised if we weren’t.”

“And this doesn’t bother you.”

“Not for now. The trick is to disappear, but be easy for the right people to find when the time comes.”

Privately Jack thought it would be about two days for the right people to need to find them. The problem was the wrong people would be looking much sooner than that. All he had to do was play hide and seek in the city of London and try to keep Ellen from blowing her top and their cover. Easy.

 

\-----

 

Sherlock quickly outlined his suspicions about the content of the memory stick as they left Baker Street and hailed a taxi. John had given Sherlock a long list of instructions while they were in the taxi. It basically boiled down to be less like Sherlock.

“Calm down John. I know we need Dr Stewart’s approval to continue with this case. I also know that I’m starting this social interaction with a rare point in my favour.”

“What would that be?”

“Both Dr Stewart and I despise my brother.”

“I’m sure Mycroft will be thrilled that he’s been able to offer some small assistance.”

That had both the men giggling like little children. They were still giggling as they climbed out of the cab and started to walk towards the café. Sherlock suddenly stopped and caught hold of John’s arm.

“How exactly do you know Dr Stewart?”

“I did a tour at the same base as her team. Patched up quite a few of her guys and we stayed friendly.”

“She’s an ex-girlfriend isn’t she?”

John shook his head and stared at his annoying flatmate.

“No, Sherlock, she is not an ex-girlfriend. I am able to have female friends without jumping into bed with them.”

The lanky man nodded and walked on.

“She turned you down then?”

“No. Drop it. Try to be…”

“I know less like me.”

Sherlock fell back half a pace behind John as he wasn’t totally sure of Dr Stewart’s appearance. Government ID photos were not always the most flattering images, (Mycroft’s was a shocker), and the lady herself had very little social internet presence.

Even without her rising from the table and giving John a smiling hug Sherlock would have been able to pick the head of UNIT out of the crowd. From her well made yet subtly styled clothing with its muted tones to her posture and bearing that indicated her comfort with leadership. Everything about her quietly announced her military upbringing. Everything but her eyes; those sparkled with a level of curiosity that Sherlock had only observed in a handful of the most passionate scientists.

Sherlock snapped back into his surroundings just as John was shaking hands with the tall man who accompanied Dr Stewart.

“Good to see you Dr Watson, sir.”

“None of that now Hillyard. I’m a civilian now. Leg’s still attached then?”

“All in working order. Still got my tattoo.”

Sherlock’s curiosity twitched at this comment and it did so again when he saw John smile proudly.

“Tattoo? What tattoo?”

Hillyard gave Dr Stewart a fast glance which she returned with a tiny nod. She was more than happy to see how the younger Holmes interacted with one of her team before she spoke with him.

“Dr Watson saved my leg after I was injured in action. It was such an amazing job I asked him to sign his work, then one of the lads tattooed over it for me.”

“Is it not difficult being a heterosexual male with another man’s name tattooed on your person?”

Hillyard straighten slightly, but his tone was still jovial as he replied.

“Firstly sir, my sexuality is nobody’s business but my own. Secondly, have you seen Dr Watson’s handwriting? Most people who see the tattoo think it’s an alien language from Star Trek.”

There was a pause where Kate was expecting a scathing comment to fall from Sherlock’s lips. Instead the man gave a bark of laughter and clapped John on the shoulder.

“You should see some of the notes he leaves around the flat!”

Kate was surprised, pleasantly so, it appeared that this Holmes wasn’t as bad as the elder version. She stepped forward and caught Hillyard’s attention.

“Would you give us a moment?”

“Of course ma’am. I won’t be far away.”

With a nod to John and Sherlock the soldier stepped an unobtrusive distance away. John caught Sherlock’s look and went to order coffee. Sherlock turned to Dr Stewart.

“Dr Lethbridge-Stewart it’s a pleasure to meet you. Did I pass?”

“I beg your pardon Mr Holmes.”

Kate replied calmly and indicated to the chair opposite her at the table. Sherlock folded his long frame into the seat and continued.

“You brought Hillyard to this meeting for two reasons. Firstly as a high ranking figure with a dangerous job you travel with security. Secondly you know of his past association with John and suspected that my interest would be roused by their catch up chatter. You displayed caution when I engaged with him; followed by tension and anger when I questioned him on such a personal topic and finally surprise when I made a joke. I suspect you wanted to test my behaviour with your team in a controlled situation. So my question stands, did I pass?”

John had slid into the spare seat at the table and placed a cappuccino in front of Sherlock. As if they had timed their actions Sherlock picked up the cup a bare second after John had put it down. Kate smiled at John.

“Yes I did manufacture a test for you. Now why would I do such a thing?”

“It could be that rumours of my abrasive nature have preceded me, but considering your animosity with my brother I speculate that he has been bitingly rude to one of your staff. You decided to see if I was cut from the same cloth. It pains me to admit it, but I can be just as much, if not more, of an arse as my brother. I have one great advantage that my brother lacks.”

“And what would that be Mr Holmes?”

“I have John Watson to keep me in line.” Kate raised her eyebrows and turned to John.

“You can keep a Holmes from being an arse?”

“No, but I can give him a ding around the earhole and make him apologise afterwards.” John offered and then said; “Kate we need your help and knowing you I’d wager you already have a shrewd idea why.”

“Harkness.” was the only confirmation Kate was willing to give.

“Exactly. Sherlock was given something this morning that he can only solve with your help. That’s the favour I’m asking for, your help in solving the mystery we’ve been given.”

Kate calmly finished her coffee letting the silence spin out for a few moments. John dealt with the small wait with stoic easy, but Kate could see Sherlock thrumming with barely concealed impatience.

“I can never say no to you John, of course I’ll help. However, if he makes any of my staff cry I will shoot him.”

John grinned and pushed himself up from the table.

“If he does that Kate, I’ll shoot him for you.”

“John!” Sherlock looked scandalized while the two doctors laughed at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, thank you if you're still with me at this point. Everything is almost in place so we'll be on to serious puzzle solving and probably a ridiculous amount of running in the next chapter.
> 
> I need kudos and comments just as much as Osgood needs her inhaler.


	4. The Loss of Future’s Past.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our Time Agents, Ellen and Jack, muse on the difficulties of truly knowing their own history.

Ellen had finally gotten bored hanging around burning oil drums and dragged Jack to a pokey greasy spoon on some instantly forgettable back street. She’d grumbled at him until he decided it was just easier to let her eat. If she was this cranky now, heavens knows how bad she’d be will low blood sugar.

“Just because you’ve developed the ability to absorb nutrition from the air doesn’t mean I can go without a strong cuppa and solid food.”

With a pointed stare she’d forced Jack to order a bacon buttie alongside his bottle of water. Once the waitress had dropped their food on to the slightly tacky table Jack looked around the almost empty café and decided here was as safe a place to talk as anywhere.

“Is it revenge you’re looking for out of all this?”

That thought had been nagging at him since Ellen had turned up in Cardiff five days ago. Time Agents had drifted across Jack’s path towing varying degrees of chaos in their wake a few times recently. It didn’t always end well and Ellen had the potential to be the source of a catastrophic disaster. It was a rather impressive statement to apply to the mild looking woman currently eating a Full English, but it was very true.

“I don’t want revenge, Jack. I want answers. Don’t you want to know why you’re missing part of your life?”

Jack fiddled aimlessly with the sugar packets for a moment.

“I did, but now I don’t know. Two years of missing memories doesn’t seem like a big deal anymore.”

Ellen shook her head in disbelief.

“Jack, nobody has more time missing than you. I don’t get how that doesn’t bother you.”

“A lot has happen since then.”

Jack realized that this gave Ellen an opening to ask just how much time he’d lived since leaving the Agency. That was a can of worms he didn’t want to open, partly because he wasn’t sure anymore, but mostly because he didn’t want to try and explain what Rose had done to him when she saved him using the power of the TARDIS. Thankfully it wouldn’t be too difficult to redirect the conversation.

“If the memory stick is just the encryption key how do you plan to use it?”

Ellen used her toast to mop up the last of the egg yolk on her plate as she finished her current mouthful.

“Oddly enough, that’s the easier part of the whole thing. I left a Trojan file buried on the Agency’s data system. Make use of a little temporal Wi-Fi and I’ll have remote access.”

“That is genius.”

“Well, unlike you I wasn’t hired for my pretty face.”

“Don’t be hating just because my talents are more obvious than yours.”

Jack’s wicked smile dazzled the waitress as she collected their empty plates. With a wink he ordered another cup of tea for Ellen. As the young woman blushed and simpered away Ellen rolled her eyes.

“You are a ridiculous tart, Jack Harkness.”

“Mia culpa. Aren’t you worried about HQ tracing your hack?”

“It’s possible, but it will take them a while. You know as well as I do that 21st century London is a temporal mess. My little hacking signal should get lost in the noise long enough for me to get the files I need. We’ve just got to hope that Sherlock Holmes is as much of a genius as his reputation claims.”

The waitress returned with Ellen’s tea, which was dropped down so carelessly the contents slopped over the table. Ellen wasn’t surprised by this, the woman was far too busy handing Jack her mobile number to concentrate on doing her job with any level of skill. As the waitress sashayed away Ellen just mopped up the spill while deliberately not saying anything at all about the little scene. There was an interesting exchange of pointed looks between Ellen and Jack before Jack said teasingly;

“You’re going to me grief for a little harmless flirting after your display with Dr Watson this morning?”

“What display? I wasn’t the one who tried the Harkness leer on a totally heterosexual man.”

“You really think he’s straight?”

“Oh Jack. You are tragically off your game if you didn’t pick up on that huge lack of bi-curiosity.”

They started giggling like teenagers, which going by their conversation, they sounded like as well. Ribald jokes, innuendo and smutty one-liners where normal for Time Agents, as if bouncing around in the streams of time reset a person’s concept of appropriate. Ellen wondered if the need to be juvenile about sex was some form of life affirming jab in the eye for the death that surrounded them. She suddenly felt very old and very sad. Faking a smile she said to the still chuckling Jack;

“I need the little girl’s room. Try not to seduce too many people while I’m gone.”

Ellen stared at herself in the bathroom mirror attempting to impose some form of order on the thoughts storming through her mind. Jack was worried she wanted revenge. It was possible that she would when she found out why she’d been ret-conned and lost seven months of her life. Until then she’d had to focus on finding answers. 

Jack had change so much since she’d last seen him. For her that was only four years ago, but who knew how much time he had lived through. It was frustrating trying to line up the personal histories of Time Agents. There was always the delicate moment of working out if you’d meet up in the right order, or if your past was still their future and vice versa. A simple ‘Hello, haven’t seen you since the Titian job.’ was fraught with the complex possibilities of fouling up the time line. The very first thing they were taught was that human languages are stunningly hopeless at defining time. Even in the fifty-first century humans were still rigidly linear in their descriptions of time. There was so much ebb and flow and twisting turns in the way time ran even for ordinary people who didn’t skip around in the streams. Normal folk amazed her by the way they ignored the stretch and flex of hours and minutes.

Ellen sighed and splashed cold water over her face. She was mixing her metaphors now and that way lead to confusion and a migraine. Rule two on her personal list; Do the job in front of you. In this case get the key decoded and hack HQ’s data system. There was no point trying to plan the next step while there were so many possibilities. Rule three; Leave the metaphysical musing to the poets. Squaring her shoulders she took one final look in the mirror before heading out to join Jack. 

Jack’s face had taken on a thousand yard stare while Ellen was in the loo. There was something niggling him about her behaviour. Time Agents frequently had a morally grey approach to life, but Ellen’s suggestion to use Moriarty to decode the key troubled him. He’d made use of criminal’s services in the past, heck for a while there he’d been a criminal himself. The idea of deliberately working with Jim Moriarty crossed a line that Jack hadn’t been aware he had. What was it about Ellen’s suggestion that had the hairs on the back of his neck prickling? He was irked that he couldn’t put his finger on this thing that felt so vital. He huffed out a sigh and schooled his features into a cheery grin as Ellen emerged from the bathroom.

“So, are we heading back into London’s underbelly then?”

Jack rose from the table as Ellen asked the question.

“You know I always take you to the classiest places.”

With a final wink at the waitress Jack ushered Ellen out into the streets of London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for making it through this chapter. I wanted to get some groundwork in for the complex temporal mess that is the life of a time traveler. Hopefully it will make the story easier to follow further down the line. Maybe.
> 
> The Boys of Baker Street and the Gals of UNIT will be back next chapter.
> 
> Let me know what you think of the plot, the tags, the characterization, and anything else.


	5. The Pirate Code.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John is unflappable, until he isn't.

“Okay, hang on, let me see if I’ve got this right.”

Sherlock ruffled his hands through his curls before continuing.

“Our client, Ellen Abbot is a time traveller, as is Captain Harkness. For reasons as yet unclear Miss Abbot has travelled from the fifty-first century to seek my help in decoding the information on this memory stick.”

Osgood nodded and said;

“Captain Harkness is originally from the fifty-first century. We’re guessing that Miss Abbot is from the same time, but we have no information on her.”

There was still a nervous timbre in Osgood’s voice. Dr Stewart had left her in charge of Sherlock and John, after reassuring her that the ex-army doctor would keep the younger Holmes in line. The memory of the crying fit the elder Holmes had caused was still a source of embarrassment for Osgood. Even Kate’s reassurances that Mycroft Holmes could, and had, reduced heads of state and leaders of the armed forces to a similar state didn’t make her feel much better. She was sure that this Holmes was just waiting for a sign of weakness to pounce with vicious observations. Although at the moment Osgood was cautiously enjoying having more knowledge on the subject at hand than Sherlock; she got the feeling that this situation did not occur often.

Sherlock frowned and stared at his blogger.

“Tell me John, why are you having such an easy time accepting this information?”

John shrugged.

“I’ve worked with UNIT before, Sherlock. Time travel isn’t half as strange as what I saw in Africa. Besides working with you I’m used to crazy crawling out of the woodwork more often than not.”

Sherlock’s face was a picture of wonder. There was only one thing that caused that look on his face; John had surprised him, again.

“You never cease to amaze me John.”

The tension Osgood had been feeling melted a little at this exchange between the two friends. The good feeling didn’t last long as Sherlock continued;

“Well John, if a man of your limited intellect can take these revelations in your stride I’m sure I can manage to accept them. Now how much longer is this computer going to take to unzip this data?”

John caught Osgood’s look of shock at Sherlock’s insult. He gave her a smile and shook his head. He was about to remind Sherlock about his manners when the detective gave a whoop of excitement.

“Finally! The data has decompressed. The sheer amount of information is stunning.”

“Can you decode it?”

Osgood’s tone contained the tingle of excitement that John recognised as someone anticipating a puzzle to be solved. The young scientist had reminded John of Molly Hooper the second they had met. She had a similar kooky dress sense and the same nervous approach in her dealings with Sherlock. Watching her hover over his flatmate’s shoulder John realised that she also shared the ability to override her nervousness in the face of a problem. Lost for a moment in his musings about bringing the two women together, John missed the subtle shift in Sherlock’s posture until the detective spoke;

“Get ou. . “

Sherlock stopped himself from finishing whatever he had been about to snap. He bit his bottom lip as he inhaled through his nose. John was on immediate alert. Something had just gone wrong and it got worse as Sherlock started to speak again.

“Osgood, would you mind giving me and John a moment alone please? We need to discuss a delicate matter regarding our client. I assure you nothing with be withheld once we had resolved this issue.”

Sherlock gave Osgood a winning smile and that combined with his apparently sincere and polite tone was enough to shift John’s anxiety level all the way to red alert. The young UNIT scientist appeared unaware of the increased danger in the air. 

“Okay. I’ll just step outside for a moment.”

Osgood fiddled with the end of her striped scarf and let the room gently clicking the door shut behind her. The second she was gone John leaned over to Sherlock and spoke in an urgent whisper.

“What’s going on, Sherlock? You’re being polite and that’s making me very nervous.”

Sherlock tore his gaze away from the computer screen. John spared it a glance and took in the nonsense of numbers and letters on the screen before refocusing his attention on the consulting detective.

“John, I recognize this code and I don’t understand how it can be here.”

“So you can decode it. That’s good, isn’t it? How do you recognize a code from the future?”

“I invented it.”

“You invented… hang on, what? Sherlock, you invented this code? This code that a time traveller has brought from the future for you to decode. Well that’s a coincidence.”

“You know what we say about coincidence, John. The universe is rarely that lazy.”

In a flurry of sudden movement Sherlock stood up with such force the chair almost toppled over. John sat back and let the man pace. There was obviously something more going on here, but Sherlock need time to process. At least with all of the security checks between here and the outside world John wasn’t worried about the man haring off into danger on his own. Sherlock completed three circuits of the room, his hands flexing constantly as he chewed on his lip.

“Only Mycroft and I know this code. It’s something we would only employ in a time of dire need. I don’t have enough data to know whether this is such a time, or if at some point in the future someone else learns the code.”

John’s face contorted through some interesting shapes as he took in this new information. 

“This is a code you and your brother invented?”

“Yes, when we were children. We modified it for computer use at a later date obviously.”

“Ellen Abbot couldn’t break a child’s code? Wait, I forgot which kids I was talking about. Of course you and Mycroft would develop an uncrackable code.”

Sherlock came to a decision and settled himself into a chair opposite the laptop. This position meant he couldn’t see the screen.

“John I want you to type in the decryption code. That way we can see what this is without instantly revealing too much information to me. Yes and once we’ve done that we’ll get Dr Stewart in here and find out if I’ve destroyed the time line.”

“Might be a good idea to tell Kate about this before we risk the fabric of space/time.”

John made the suggestion, but had little hope of Sherlock following his advice.

“This could be something personal between Mycroft and I, please John.”

John was aware that Sherlock was probably manipulating him. The use of ‘please’ from his flatmate was normally a dead giveaway, but John’s own curiosity was pushing him to do as requested. How often do you get to peek into the future?

“Okay. What do I need to type?”

“The prompt is for a username, correct? Type in Black Top Bill. Three words with capital letters.”

John smiled as he pecked away at the keyboard. He could feel the look of annoyance on Sherlock’s face, but couldn’t stop himself from asking;

“Was that your pirate name or Mycroft’s?”

“Mine. Yes, my brother and I developed a code based on my childhood enjoyment of pirates. If we could get through this with a minimal amount of mockery on your part I would be grateful.”

“Aye-aye Captain. Sorry. What’s goes in the next box?”

“Redbeard.”

John typed this word with a large amount of trepidation. Something was going to happen when he hit the enter key, with any luck it wouldn’t be disastrous. Realizing the foolishness of that thought in present company John screwed his eyes shut and tapped the enter key.

For a few seconds nothing happened. John opened his eyes and looked at the screen hopefully. His head sank onto his chest as the sirens started howling.

“Well, surely that wasn’t entirely unexpected.”

At Sherlock’s calm comment John raised his head and drew in a deep breath.

“Sherlock! What the fu…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters added in one day. I am on fire.
> 
> Add fuel to my fire with kudos and comments ;)


	6. More Questions Than Answers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cracking the code doesn't always provide the final answers.

“..cking hell! What is going on?”

The second the alarms had started Kate just knew Sherlock Holmes was the cause. The members of R&D were honestly relieved that someone else was now the focus of their boss’s ire. The reason for Kate’s childhood nickname of Tiger was very apparent when she was in a bad mood. The fact that those teeth and claws would now tear into someone a long way away from their labs allowed many of the staff to start breathing again.

Kate rushed up to Osgood, who was standing outside the room Sherlock and John were in. Kate did manage to take a deep breath before she started questioning her shaking assistant.

“You left them alone in there?”

“Only for a moment. They needed to talk about their client in private. I didn’t think it would be a problem. It’s not like they had full access to the computer core. I don’t know how they’ve triggered the alarm. How…how…”

“Inhaler.”

Click. Whoosh.

“It’s okay. Let’s find out what they’ve done.”

Kate typed the override code into her PDA to shut off the alarms, but she kept the security setting on heighten alert. The door clicked open to reveal John Watson sat in front of the laptop with his head in his hands. Sherlock was pacing along the back of the room. Without moving John said;

“If you want to do me a huge favour you could shoot him for me.”

“I’m tempted to shoot both of you. What happened?”

With a weary sigh John sat back in the chair. The look he gave Kate spoke volumes about idiot flatmates and reconsideration about life choices.

“Sherlock decoded the encryption, mostly because he’s one of the people who wrote it. Then everything went Hell in a hand basket. Genius over there has a theory as to why that happened, but I lost track when he stopped speaking in English.”

Sherlock stopped pacing and fixed his blogger with a frown.

“Everything I said was in English, John. It’s not my fault you have a Luddite’s grasp of technology.”

Kate shook her head; it amazed her that two grown men would have so little regard for their safety that they could bicker while there were armed men under her command just outside.

“Enough!”

Sherlock and John stopped mid-insult and glared at her. Kate squared her shoulders and pointed at Sherlock.

“You sit!”

To her secret shock the consulting detective obeyed.

“Right. Explain.”

“The encryption code is a private one used by Mycroft and I. Entering the correct password caused the program to activate and search for the nearest online connection. Did it get into your systems?”

“No. The computer core goes into lockdown if an unknown temporal signature attempts access.”

Sherlock clapped his hands together and grinned.

“Excellent! We’re going to need track down our client, John. High time she did a little explaining don’t you think?”

Sherlock went to stand up and found himself the subject of a stern look from Dr Stewart. He licked his lips and gently settled himself back into the chair.

“Alternatively we could ask if Dr Stewart has any way to contact Captain Harkness.”

He gave Kate a politely inquiring look and tried very hard to ignore the fact that John was sniggering at his compliance.  
Without turning away from Sherlock Kate held her hand out to Osgood. Sherlock watched the exchange intently. He was clearly disappointed when Osgood fished an ordinary mobile phone out of her pocket and handed it to her boss. Kate selected a number and stabbed the call button.

“Captain Harkness. Your presence is required at the Tower. Not negotiable. Ten minutes or I let the boys out for a run.”

She ended the call and sat down at the table. Sherlock huffed a sigh.

“Well, that was disappointingly low tech.”

“And what was your plan?”

“Homeless Network.”

 

\---{}---

 

Jack looked at his phone for a long moment. Stunned was probably the best description. It was a rare feeling and left him rather unsettled.

“What was that?”

“We’ve been summoned to the Tower.”

“Better than being dragged there in chains I guess.”

Ellen pushed up the left hand sleeve of her shirt. She tapped quickly on the inside of her wrist and Jack watched with professional curiosity as a circle of her wrist opened up like a flower. Silver metal tendrils snaked out around her forearm and coalesced into a vortex manipulator.

“Flashy. A little twenty-fourth century for my taste, but each to their own.”

“Really? Style critique from the man rocking the World War Two look.”

She sounded distracted as she continued to poke at the controls on her wrist.

“Why can’t I get a lock on the Tower?”

“Time shielding amongst other defences. We should be able to jump nearby and walk the rest.”

“Okay. Hold on tight, this could get a bit bumpy.”

Jack smiled and did as he was bid. 

 

\---{}---

 

Although there were no chains when Jack and Ellen arrived at the Tower, there was an air of ‘You are our guests, but don’t try anything’ to the escort that led them to Sherlock and John. 

“Hello again Dr Stewart!”

“Behave Jack.” 

Ellen was joined in her traditional comment by John and Osgood. She laughed and waved to the slightly blushing scientist.  
“Ellen Abbot, nice to meet you.”

“Osgood. This is Dr Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, head of UNIT.”

Kate looked the Time Agent up and down before shaking her offered hand.

“You’re the source of my little security alert then. Want to explain what trouble Jack’s brought me this time?”

“Happily. I just need to look at the Key that Sherlock decoded.”

Kate chewed her lip and thought for a very long moment. She trusted Captain Harkness, for a given value of trust. The man was more of a mystery than even she liked working with, but he was always good to have on side in a tight spot. The very same could be said for John Watson, though in his case the mystery came in the form of Sherlock Holmes. The tension in the room increased to almost smothering levels. If anything was going to go wrong it may as well happen here with these people. 

“Go on then, but explain while you work.”

Such was the force of relief that the walls moved slightly as the whole room breathed out. Ellen sat herself in front of the laptop and examined the keyboard. Before she could start doing anything Sherlock leant over the table and asked;

“Did I get anything right about you?”

“Erm, not my country of origin; or my age; or where I spent my childhood. I did grow up in the North East, just not in the UK, or on this planet.”

Ellen gave him a huge smile and began typing.

“Explaining usually involves talking Miss Abbot.”

“Of course, Dr Stewart. Do you know what Ret-con is?”

“It’s an amnesia drug introduced to UNIT by Torchwood. I’d imagine that means it’s from the Time Agency.”

“Correct. In recent years it’s become more common for Time Agents to notice they’ve been dosed by the Agency. Asking questions has been met with the Shadow Proclamation’s secrecy clause.”

John actually raised his hand at this point.

“Shadow Proclamation?”

Ellen was confused for a moment as she cast around for an appropriate comparison. Jack came to her rescue by saying;  
“Think NATO for the universe.”

John nodded and Ellen continued;

“Most Agents are missing a few days here or there, but some of us are missing much more than that. We wanted to know why. I was given the Key and told to I’d find help in the early twenty-first century. Wasn’t expecting that help to be Jack, but can’t say I was surprised.”

Ellen fell into silence as she focused more on the information in front of her.

“Why come to me? Why not approach UNIT directly?”

Sherlock’s tone was all curiosity. Ellen didn’t answer, but Jack took up the duty of explaining.

“Ellen wasn’t sure we could trust UNIT. No offence Kate, but the Agency has a very long reach.”

“None taken, but it’s not filling me with confidence that I aiding and abetting rogue elements.”

Ellen and Jack both gave a bitter laugh at Kate’s comment.

“It’s a safe bet every Agent you’ll ever met is a rogue element. It’s sort of the way we leave the Agency.”

“Not reassuring at all. Should I expect a response from them?”

The Agency? I doubt it. We took a few days to be sure that Ellen’s arrival here hadn’t caused a stir. The Key Code couldn’t be cracked by anyone Ellen could trust. We knew we’d need a puzzle solving mind like Sherlock’s to solve it. How did you do that so quickly?”

Jack treated Sherlock to a stare lesser men would have found intimidating. John watched his flatmate carefully. The detective was unruffled as he said;

“I’m a genius. Has it been useful?”

Ellen was nodding as the screen of the laptop bathed her face in rapidly moving light. It the silence that followed Jack paced around the room in easy strides. He came to rest to the right of Sherlock as Ellen finally spoke again.

“I think I’ve got the files we need. I just need to cover my tracks and we’ll be in… ow!”

Ellen pushed her chair back from the table suddenly and clutched her head. John was by her side in a split second, a reassuring hand on her back as her eased her chin up.

“Headache. These ruddy screens. I don’t know how anyone lives through this time with their retinas intact.”

“Can we get her some water?”

Osgood left the room to fetch Ellen a drink and that was when everything went to hell a second time.

Ellen leapt to her feet and grabbed at John. She backed against the wall with John’s back pressed against her chest and her right arm around his neck. Sherlock yelled and made to jump the table between them, but Jack’s heavy hand on his shoulder yanked him back. With very slow movements Kate turned in her seat.

“That’s a vortex manipulator on her wrist Sherlock. She could take John’s head off before you could clear the table, so let’s just be sensible about this and work out what’s going on.”

“Sherlock listen to Kate. Please.”

Sherlock nodded at John. Jack moved forwards carefully.

“Ellen what are you doing?”

“Oh Jack. The things they’ve made us do. I need to fix this and I can’t let you stop me.”

As Jack reached for his own wrist Ellen straighten her arm and aimed at Sherlock. There was a pulse of light that connected not with the detective, but with Jack. The Captain had pushed Sherlock behind him in the fraction of a second it took Ellen to discharge her weapon. John’s shout was cut off by a crackling bang as him and the rogue agent disappeared.

“JOHN!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling rather evil and thought I'd end this story on a cliff hanger. It's more for my benefit than yours. I needed to close off this section so I can start work on the next part. Weak I know, but it makes sense to my twisty mind.
> 
> Comments and/or kudos are the life blood that keeps the words flowing.


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